Monday, June 8, 2015

Last Thursday at work, even though everything was going just fine, I was so tempted to storm out, quit my job and try to go on disability. I called in sick on Friday and spent most of the last three days in bed. I used to spend all day in bed almost every weekend, but my outlook has actually improved over the past several years.

I get tired of struggling all the time when I can't even find a reason—other than misplaced hope—as to why I bother. Maybe everyone actually struggles that way. Maybe not. But you certainly won't ever find me siring any children. I just wish I had the tools to build some kind of life for myself.

Anyway, I finally went back to the gym tonight after blowing it, and my diet, off for a week. And I'm finally doing a load of laundry so I don't wear gym socks with my dress pants again tomorrow. (At least I've been wearing clean underwear...Semper ubi!) A million years ago (back in the '90's) I worked for quite a while with a cognitive behaviorist. Her underlying message was that, if you change your behavior, your mood will eventually follow suit. Perhaps that works for some people, but it certainly hasn't been my experience. My mood has yet to tag along with all of the positive behaviors I've been forcing myself to perform over the past eight months and counting. As much as I liked that therapist, I think I should get a refund for all of those sessions.